Some days I just know. I wake up and just feel it in the air.
I pretend it's a normal morning; I change and go down to breakfast. Mom's making pancakes, but I don't like pancakes, so she lets me eat something else.
No matter how hard I try to hide the feeling of dread in my stomach, Mom can always tell. She takes one look at me, and smiles a smile filled with so much sadness I almost let the tears go then and there. But I don't, because I have to save it.
Uncle Don comes to pick me up at 8:00, like he always does. I slide the door open and clime into the silver SUV. He smiles and I'm pretty sure he asks me how I am. Usually I answer something like, "fine" or "okay", but today I don't say anything. He frowns but lets it drop and turns to say something to his son, Alan. I should feel guilty for being rude to Uncle Don, but I don't. I'm too numb to feel anything.
Way too soon, we pull up to the high school that I dread going to. It sucks being a genius sometimes. It's not so bad anymore, though. Every since the accident, no body picks on me anymore.
Every now and then someone will come up to me, trying to make amends for how things used to be, saying "I'm sorry" or "Is there anything I can do?" No. There's nothing you can do. There's nothing anyone can do. I wish there would all stop asking.
I have calculus first period and I'm grateful for that. At least I can drown myself in numbers for an hour and forty-five minutes. The teacher calls on me and I automatically answer. I think my brain is on autopilot or something. I don't remember leaving math or going to art, P.E., or Science.
After the last bell rings, I find Alan to tell him not to wait up, I'm gonna catch another ride. I take the public bus to the place I've both dreaded coming to yet is the only place I feel alive, ironic, considering it's a graveyard.
I walk the familiar path that I wish I didn't know like the back of my hand. I feel my legs stop and look up from the ground at the grey stone that haunts my dreams. I stand there for a while. I've done this many times before, but I can never remember how to start, I feel so awkward here.
I glance around to see if anyone's here with me, but its four o'clock in the afternoon on a Thursday. No one's here.
"Uhh . . . hi Dad, it's me, Charlie. I know I haven't visited you in a while but I've been busy with school and stuff . . . well you know. School's better by the way, every since the" I stop, suddenly feeling very cold. ". . . Nobody makes fun of me anymore, I mean."
"Mom's doing okay. So are Meg and Donnie. Mom misses you like crazy, Daddy. She tries to be strong but I know she hurts inside. I miss you too, a lot. I wish I could go back in time somehow . . . make it so this whole thing never happened. Of course, Uncle Larry would say that it's possible."
"Meggie started school this year. She's in 2nd grade math. I told her you would be proud . . . that you are proud. She needs to know you're watching us, Dad. She needs to have hope, I do too."
"Are you watching? Can you see me right now? I wish I could really talk to you. There are so many things I never got to ask, things you never got to tell me; all the advice about girls and college you never got to give. Think of Meg's first boyfriend who you'll never get to scare off and think of Donnie. You never even go to hear his first words. You know what they were? 'Daddy' that was his first word. Mom cried when he said it. I'm not gonna lie, I did too."
"My birthday's tomorrow, you know? I'll be eleven. The big double 1's. It's gonna be the first birthday that you've missed . . . in my whole life." I pause and wipe the tears off my face with my sleeve. "Mom said she'd make waffles. She only makes them on special occasions now because they hold too much meaning to be a regular thing anymore."
"I should be heading home. It's getting dark and Mom will start to worry. I'll come again soon, maybe even bring the family. Who knows? Maybe Uncle Don will even come." I start to walk away but stop and turn back to face my father's headstone.
"I love you, Daddy," I say and walk back down the way I came.
Charles "Charlie" Eppes
Loving father, husband, and teacher
"You will forever be in our hearts"
- The Eppes's-
Alan, Don, Amita, Charlie, Margaret, and Donnie.